Nearly six centuries have elapsed since the appearance of the great work
of Dante, and the literary historians of Italy are even now disputing
respecting the origin of this poem, singular in its nature and in its
excellence. In ascertaining a point so long inquired after, and so
keenly disputed, it will rather increase our admiration than detract
from the genius of this great poet; and it will illustrate the useful
principle, that every great genius is influenced by the objects and the
feelings which occupy his own times, only differing from the race of his
brothers by the magical force of his developments: the light he sends
forth over the world he often catches from the faint and unobserved
spark which would die away and turn to nothing in another hand.
The _Divina Commedia_ of Dante is a visionary journey through the three
realms of the after-life existence; and though, in the classical ardour
of our poetical pilgrim, he allows his conductor to be a Pagan, the
scenes are those of monkish imagination. The invention of a VISION was
the usual vehicle for religious instruction in his age; it was adapted
to the genius of the sleeping Homer of a monastery, and to the
comprehension, and even to the faith of the populace, whose minds were
then awake to these awful themes.
The mode of writing visions has been imperfectly detected by several
modern inquirers. It got into the Fabliaux of the Jongleurs, or
Provençal bards, before the days of Dante; they had these visions or
pilgrimages to Hell; the adventures were no doubt solemn to them--but it
seemed absurd to attribute the origin of a sublime poem to such
inferior, and to us even ludicrous, inventions. Every one, therefore,
found out some other origin of Dante's Inferno--since they were resolved
to have one--in other works more congenial to its nature; the
description of a second life, the melancholy or the glorified scenes of
punishment or bliss, with the animated shades of men who were no more,
had been opened to the Italian bard by his favourite Virgil, and might
have been suggested, according to Warton, by the _Somnium Scipionis_ of
Cicero.
But the entire work of Dante is Gothic; it is a picture of his times, of
his own ideas, of the people about him; nothing of classical antiquity
resembles it; and although the name of Virgil is introduced into a
Christian Hades, it is assuredly not the Roman, for Dante's Virgil
speaks and acts as the Latin poet could never have done. It is one of
the absurdities of Dante, who, like our Shakspeare, or like Gothic
architecture itself, has many things which "lead to nothing" amidst
their massive greatness.
Had the Italian and the French commentators who have troubled themselves
on this occasion known the art which we have happily practised in this
country, of illustrating a great national bard by endeavouring to
recover the contemporary writings and circumstances which were connected
with his studies and his times, they had long ere this discovered the
real framework of the Inferno.
Within the last twenty years it had been rumoured that Dante had
borrowed or stolen his _Inferno_ from "The Vision of Alberico," which
was written two centuries before his time. The literary antiquary,
Bottari, had discovered a manuscript of this Vision of Alberico, and, in
haste, made extracts of a startling nature. They were well adapted to
inflame the curiosity of those who are eager after anything new about
something old; it throws an air of erudition over the small talker, who
otherwise would care little about the original! This was not the first
time that the whole edifice of genius had been threatened by the motion
of a remote earthquake; but in these cases it usually happens that those
early discoverers who can judge of a little part, are in total blindness
when they would decide on a whole. A poisonous mildew seemed to have
settled on the laurels of Dante; nor were we relieved from our constant
inquiries, till il Sigr. Abbate Cancellieri at Rome published, in 1814,
this much talked-of manuscript, and has now enabled us to see and to
decide, and even to add the present little article as an useful
supplement.
True it is that Dante must have read with equal attention and delight
this authentic _vision_ of Alberico; for it is given, so we are assured
by the whole monastery, as it happened to their ancient brother when a
boy; many a striking, and many a positive resemblance in the "Divina
Commedia" has been pointed out; and Mr. Gary, in his English version of
Dante, so English, that he makes Dante speak in blank verse very much
like Dante in stanzas, has observed, that "The reader will, in these
marked resemblances, see enough to convince him that Dante _had read
this singular work_." The truth is, that the "Vision of Alberico" must
not be considered as a _singular_ work--but, on the contrary, as the
prevalent mode of composition in the monastic ages. It has been
ascertained that Alberico was written in the twelfth century, judging of
the age of a manuscript by the writing. I shall now preserve a vision
which a French antiquary had long ago given, merely with the design to
show how the monks abused the simplicity of our Gothic ancestors, and
with an utter want of taste for such inventions, he deems the present
one to be "monstrous." He has not told us the age in which it was
written. This vision, however, exhibits such complete scenes of the
_Inferno_ of the great poet, that the writer must have read Dante, or
Dante must have read this writer. The manuscript, with another of the
same kind, is in the King's library at Paris, and some future researcher
may ascertain the age of these Gothic compositions; doubtless they will
be found to belong to the age of Alberico, for they are alike stamped by
the same dark and awful imagination, the same depth of feeling, the
solitary genius of the monastery!
It may, however, be necessary to observe, that these "Visions" were
merely a vehicle for popular instruction; nor must we depend on the age
of their composition by the names of the supposititious visionaries
affixed to them: they were the satires of the times. The following
elaborate views of some scenes in the _Inferno_ were composed by an
honest monk who was dissatisfied with the bishops, and took this covert
means of pointing out how the neglect of their episcopal duties was
punished in the after-life; he had an equal quarrel with the feudal
nobility for their oppressions: and he even boldly ascended to the
throne.
"The Vision of Charles the Bald, of the places of punishment, and the
happiness of the Just.[282]
"I, Charles, by the gratuitous gift of God, king of the Germans, Roman
patrician, and likewise emperor of the Franks;
"On the holy night of Sunday, having performed the divine offices of
matins, returning to my bed to sleep, a voice most terrible came to my
ear; 'Charles! thy spirit shall now issue from thy body; thou shalt go
and behold the judgments of God; they shall serve thee only as presages,
and thy spirit shall again return shortly afterwards.' Instantly was my
spirit rapt, and he who bore me away was a being of the most splendid
whiteness. He put into my hand a ball of thread, which shed a blaze of
light, such as the comet darts when it is apparent. He divided it, and
said to me, 'Take thou this thread, and bind it strongly on the thumb of
thy right hand, and by this I will lead thee through the infernal
labyrinth of punishments.'
"Then going before me with velocity, but always unwinding this luminous
thread, he conducted me into deep valleys filled with fires, and wells
inflamed, blazing with all sorts of unctuous matter. There I observed
the prelates who had served my father and my ancestors. Although I
trembled, I still, however, inquired of them to learn the cause of their
torments. They answered, 'We are the bishops of your father and your
ancestors; instead of uniting them and their people in peace and
concord, we sowed among them discord, and were the kindlers of evil: for
this are we burning in these Tartarean punishments; we, and other
men-slayers and devourers of rapine. Here also shall come your bishops,
and that crowd of satellites who surround you, and who imitate the evil
we have done.'
"And while I listened to them tremblingly, I beheld the blackest demons
flying with hooks of burning iron, who would have caught the ball of
thread which I held in my hand, and have drawn it towards them, but it
darted such a reverberating light, that they could not lay hold of the
thread. These demons, when at my back, hustled to precipitate me into
those sulphureous pits; but my conductor, who carried the ball, wound
about my shoulder a double thread, drawing me to him with such force,
that we ascended high mountains of flame, from whence issued lakes and
burning streams, melting all kinds of metals. There I found the souls of
lords who had served my father and my brothers; some plunged in up to
the hair of their heads, others to their chins, others with half their
bodies immersed. These yelling, cried to me, 'It is for inflaming
discontents with your father, and your brothers, and yourself, to make
war and spread murder and rapine, eager for earthly spoils, that we now
suffer these torments in these rivers of boiling metal.' While I was
timidly bending over their suffering, I heard at my back the clamours of
voices, _potentes potenter tormenta patiuntur_! 'The powerful suffer
torments powerfully;' and I looked up, and beheld on the shores boiling
streams and ardent furnaces, blazing with pitch and sulphur, full of
great dragons, large scorpions, and serpents of a strange species; where
also I saw some of my ancestors, princes, and my brothers also, who
said to me, 'Alas, Charles! behold our heavy punishment for evil, and
for proud malignant counsels, which, in our realms and in thine, we
yielded to from the lust of dominion.' As I was grieving with their
groans, dragons hurried on, who sought to devour me with throats open,
belching flame and sulphur. But my leader trebled the thread over me, at
whose resplendent light these were overcome. Leading me then securely,
we descended into a great valley, which on one side was dark, except
where lighted by ardent furnaces, while the amenity of the other was so
pleasant and splendid, that I cannot describe it. I turned, however, to
the obscure and flaming side; I beheld some kings of my race agonised in
great and strange punishments, and I thought how in an instant the huge
black giants who in turmoil were working to set this whole valley into
flames, would have hurled me into these gulfs; I still trembled, when
the luminous thread cheered my eyes, and on the other side of the valley
a light for a little while whitened, gradually breaking: I observed two
fountains; one, whose waters had extreme heat, the other more temperate
and clear; and two large vessels filled with these waters. The luminous
thread rested on one of the fervid waters, where I saw my father Louis
covered to his thighs, and though labouring in the anguish of bodily
pain, he spoke to me. 'My son Charles, fear nothing! I know that thy
spirit shall return unto thy body; and God has permitted thee to come
here that thou mayest witness, because of the sins I have committed, the
punishments I endure. One day I am placed in the boiling bath of this
large vessel, and on another changed into that of more tempered waters:
this I owe to the prayers of Saint Peter, Saint Denis, Saint Remy, who
are the patrons of our royal house; but if by prayers and masses,
offerings and alms, psalmody and vigils, my faithful bishops, and
abbots, and even all the ecclesiastical order, assist me, it will not be
long before I am delivered from these boiling waters. Look on your
left!' I looked and beheld two tuns of boiling waters. 'These are
prepared for thee,' he said, 'if thou wilt not be thy own corrector, and
do penance for thy crimes!' Then I began to sink with horror; but my
guide perceiving the panic of my spirit, said to me, 'Follow me to the
right of the valley, bright in the glorious light of Paradise.' I had
not long proceeded, when, amidst the most illustrious kings, I beheld
my uncle Lotharius seated on a topaz, of marvellous magnitude, covered
with a most precious diadem; and beside him was his son Louis, like him
crowned, and seeing me, he spake with a blandishment of air, and a
sweetness of voice, 'Charles, my successor, now the third in the Roman
empire, approach! I know that thou hast come to view these places of
punishment, where thy father and my brother groans to his destined hour:
but still to end by the intercession of the three saints, the patrons of
the kings and the people of France. Know that it will not be long ere
thou shalt be dethroned, and shortly after thou shalt die!' Then Louis
turning towards me: 'Thy Roman empire shall pass into the hands of
Louis, the son of my daughter; give him the sovereign authority, and
trust to his hands that ball of thread thou holdest.' Directly I
loosened it from the finger of my right hand to give the empire to his
son. This invested him with empire, and he became brilliant with all
light; and at the same instant, admirable to see, my spirit, greatly
wearied and broken, returned gliding into my body. Hence let all know
whatever happen, that Louis the Young possesses the Roman empire
destined by God. And so the Lord who reigneth over the living and the
dead, and whose kingdom endureth for ever and for aye, will perform when
he shall call me away to another life."
The French literary antiquaries judged of these "Visions" with the mere
nationality of their taste. Everything Gothic with them is barbarous,
and they see nothing in the redeeming spirit of genius, nor the secret
purpose of these curious documents of the age.
The Vision of Charles the Bald may be found in the ancient chronicles of
Saint Denis, which were written under the eye of the Abbé Suger, the
learned and able minister of Louis the Young, and which were certainly
composed before the thirteenth century. The learned writer of the fourth
volume of the _Mélanges tirés d'une grande Bibliothèque_, who had as
little taste for these mysterious visions as the other French critic,
apologises for the venerable Abbé Suger's admission of such visions:
"Assuredly," he says, "the Abbé Suger was too wise and too enlightened
to believe in similar visions; but if he suffered its insertion, or if
he inserted it himself in the chronicle of Saint Denis, it is because he
felt that such a fable offered an excellent lesson to kings, to
ministers and bishops, and it had been well if they had not had worse
tales told them." The latter part is as philosophical as the former is
the reverse.
In these extraordinary productions of a Gothic age we may assuredly
discover Dante; but what are they more than the framework of his
unimitated picture! It is only this mechanical part of his sublime
conceptions that we can pretend to have discovered; other poets might
have adopted these "Visions;" but we should have had no "Divina
Commedia." Mr. Gary has finely observed of these pretended origins of
Dante's genius, although Mr. Gary knew only the Vision of Alberico, "It
is the scale of magnificence on which this conception was framed, and
the wonderful development of it in all its parts, that may justly
entitle our poet to rank among the few minds to whom the power of a
great creative faculty can be ascribed." Milton might originally have
sought the seminal hint of his great work from a sort of Italian
mystery. In the words of Dante himself,
Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda.
_Il Paradiso_, Can. i.
----From a small spark
Great flame hath risen.
CARY.
After all, Dante has said in a letter, "I found the ORIGINAL of MY HELL
in THE WORLD which we inhabit;" and he said a greater truth than some
literary antiquaries can always comprehend![283]